


Ambush

by Zyphria



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Trevor almost dies basically
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-01-30 14:34:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21429796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zyphria/pseuds/Zyphria
Summary: Just wanted to write something where Trevor gets the tar beat out of him and Adrian and Sypha are worried.
Relationships: Alucard/Trevor Belmont/Sypha Belnades
Comments: 34
Kudos: 220





	1. Chapter 1

It had been an ambush. The stupid bastards had somehow managed to sneak up on them, even though they’d taken all of the precautions. Fire was out before the sun set, Sypha putting wards on the windows to make the decrepit little building look empty. But it didn’t matter, none of it. It was Trevor’s fault, of course. He’d gone out to take a piss and something vaguely shaped like a man had grabbed him and, well, here they were, fighting for their lives again.

Trevor felt the sting of skin being split and grit his teeth._ Just a scratch_, he told himself, ignoring the warmth that began to dribble down his calf. This lanky fucker was all claws and fast to boot. The whip felt fluid in his hands, twisting around trees and undergrowth, cracking down just a split second too late. Only good peripheral vision and an unbalanced dodge saved his face from more scars. He rolled out of the trees, into a small clearing in front of the cliff. Up on one knee then backwards into a low crouch. The creature was out of sight for the moment and Trevor felt exposed. He drew his shortsword, feeling better with the familiar weight in his grip.

He could see the telltale signs of Sypha and Alucard nearby, red and blue bursts of flame silhouetting the trees, screams and howls of dying beasts. A larger flash blinded him momentarily and the thing took its chance, leaping on him from the trees. Claws dug deep into his shoulders as they rolled backwards, ripping upwards and out as he jammed his feet hard into the creature’s stomach and pushed, throwing it off him. He scrambled to his feet, blinking the sweat from his eyes, brought the shortsword up to catch the next strike. The brace for impact was met with nothing and he lost his balance again, cursing as the thing streaked past him and claws ripped into his ribs. The hit slammed him back into something hard, skull making a sickening noise against stone. By the time he’d blinked the stars back, the monster had him by the throat, spitting and snarling in his face. The claws on his neck tightened and pushed up sharply as it lifted him up in the air, Trevor hissed as the rough stone caught on his ruined skin. The whip was gone, must’ve lost it in the roll, but the shortsword was still tight in his grip. He went to stab the damned thing but it blocked too quickly, metal on dry bone echoing through the clearing.

Darkness crept in on the edges of his vision as he gasped for breath, right hand scrabbling ineffectively against its pale wrist. The creature drew its free arm back, red eyes burning bright. Trevor didn’t feel it, not exactly, when the long claws pierced him. He felt an odd sensation in his gut, something sharp and unwelcome that punched the air out of his lungs. He felt a warm wetness dribble down his chin. Trevor used the last of his strength to stab up and in, hearing a wet crack and squelch and he broke bone and pierced organ. The beast screeched in shock and dropped him. His grip on the sword was strong, a hot gush of blood sprayed the forest floor as the thing staggered back, moaning an awful noise. He landed on his feet at first, then lurched sideways, ending up sprawled, jolting him with a searing pain. An undignified yelp escaped him.

The creature fell to the earth, let out a final rattling breath, and died. Trevor breathed a sigh of relief, only for it to catch on the blood in his lungs. He sputtered, coughing harshly. After a moment, he could breathe again, albeit not without difficulty.

“Fuck,” he grunted. He wiped his mouth, then pushed himself up to a seated position. The pain was excruciating and he grit his teeth to stop the little sounds from escaping him.

“Sypha,” he muttered, “I’ve just got to get to Sypha.” He pressed against the stone cliff, using it as leverage to haul himself upwards, ignoring the throbbing of his shoulders. He pressed hard against the wound in his gut, closed his eyes for a moment as it sparked with white-hot agony. Sypha was in the opposite direction from the cliff, so Trevor set his jaw and pushed away, aiming for the nearest tree. A few steps, a stumble, and his shoulder slammed into the hard bark. The swirl of flame and howls of beasts felt so far away. Fuck, he’d let himself get drawn too far out. _Nothing to do but keep moving_. He couldn’t feel his legs anymore and fingers were going cold. A few more steps, the next tree. Blood splashed lightly on the fallen leaves, sounding not unlike the pitter-patter of rain. It felt warm where it oozed between his fingers, soaking his tunic. He felt a small pang of regret._ I really like this tunic_. Another stumble, another tree. The bark dug into his ribs and he let out a pained groan, tears springing unbidden to his eyes. _Just a few more_. The forest seemed darker now, colder. The next tree was further and the stumble didn’t take him far enough and Trevor fell to his knees. _I’ll crawl, then_, he decided, _not too proud to crawl_. His fingers felt frozen around the sword, scuffing his knuckles on the ground as he pulled himself forward. Right arm crossed his body and held the wound tightly. It still wept crimson. Trevor couldn’t see the fires anymore and couldn’t tell if it was his vision going of if they were done.

“Sypha!” he called roughly. It was a gamble, but, well, he’d die anyway unless someone found him. The coughing started again, blood bubbling on his lips. _Not good_. Trevor’s legs finally gave out and he ended up on his stomach, arm pressed painfully into the wound.

“Fuck,” he breathed, “Fuck, c’mon Belmont.” He pushed up with his free arm, trying desperately to move. His legs wouldn’t obey him and, for the first time tonight, Trevor was scared. He rolled himself over carefully, dying facedown in the dirt was not exactly ideal. Better to face the sky. The stars looked down impassively and he felt colder and more alone than he had in a very long time.

“Sypha!” he tried again, but barely managed a whisper.

He cursed. Blinked slowly. The world was going soft, blurry. He’d hoped at least it could have been quick, not this bleeding out slowly bullshit. Just his luck. He’d finally stopped wanting to die, stopped throwing himself at every chance, stopped being alone. Of course it had to be now that he actually had people to care about. Ah well. He was too tired to be angry. Trevor’s eyelids felt heavy. A slow blink, another, and suddenly the moon was much closer. He blinked again and saw an angelic face above him, silver hair catching in the moonlight. Beautiful, he thought.

“Wow,” he breathed, “didn’t think your dad would want me.” The angel looked confused, concerned, was saying something Trevor couldn’t hear. His eyes slipped closed and he felt something on his lips, sharply metallic and hot. Then a swooping feeling up and up and maybe he would see his family again, maybe they wouldn’t hate him too much, maybe they would be proud of him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrian's POV

Adrian had jolted from sleep to the sound of Trevor’s shouting. Normally, he might have ignored it, chalked it up to Belmont idiocy, but this time he smelled blood and bone on the air and knew something was wrong.

The world always blurred when he fought, his awareness focused down to a handful of points rather than the myriad of sensation that usually swept around him. Sypha’s shards of ice or fireballs, Belmont’s whip, his foes, of course. Things that could hurt him. Tonight, there were many, many points, the night creatures seemed to just keep coming. His attention was split, sword a silver streak in the moonlight, slashing and stabbing from mid-air, while he fought viciously with his claws and teeth. It was inelegant, but necessary.

He blamed his inattention when he heard Sypha cry out, then slump to the ground. A squat creature holding a large metal rod stood briefly behind her, then erupted into flames as Adrian’s sword embedded itself in the thing’s chest. Another creature used this distraction to jump on him, biting into his shoulder. Adrian hissed in pain and returned the favor, incisors digging deep before he drove a hand into its stomach. It howled and tried to push itself away. Adrian clamped down harder, ripping flesh and fat as it struggled desperately to escape. Finally, he let go, spitting the foul blood to the earth. The thing hobbled quickly away, following its counterparts as they fled. Adrian let it, he didn’t care if it escaped. Sypha was safe and that’s what mattered. He checked her over quickly, finding nothing more than small cuts and an egg-sized lump on the back of her head. He checked her eyes, which dilated normally. She’d have a hell of a headache in the morning, but there would be no permanent damage. _Belmont will just have to come to terms with being the dullest one of the group_, he thought snidely. Then his blood turned to ice in his veins. _Trevor_.

Adrian looked around the impromptu battlefield quickly. No sign of the hunter. Panic began to press tight against his lungs. _What if he’d gotten taken? What if he was dead? What if-_ He stopped himself. _Worrying won’t help. I just have to find him._ Adrian closed his eyes, breathed deep in through his nose. The dark scent of night creature made his lip curl, like sour pus and sticky sweet rot. Adrian took a few steps into the forest, almost autumn leaves crunching beneath his bare feet. The scents rolled together, blood and death and forest mixing haphazardly. But there was something else under there. A few more steps into the woods, another deep breath, and he caught it again. Something sharp and spiced, a soft burn tickling his throat. Like whiskey. That was Trevor’s blood.

He followed it like a hound as it grew stronger and stronger and finally found the hunter, lying face up on the forest floor. Relief washed over him momentarily, but pulled up short in his chest as he realized the scent was too strong, the cream-colored tunic soaked a dark crimson.

“Belmont?” he said, kneeling down.

“Beautiful,” Trevor mumbled, eyes glazed.

“Belmont, what-”

“Wow,” he breathed, blood bubbling between his pale lips, “didn’t think your dad would want me.”

Adrian sucked in a sharp breath, “ No, no, c’mon Belmont, you’re stronger than that, we just have to-”

Then his eyes closed and Adrian could hear his heartbeat going sluggish._ Fuck_. He could carry the man back to camp without issue, but Sypha was most likely still unconscious and even if she weren’t healing magic only does so much. _Think, Adrian_. They were running out of time, Trevor’s heartbeat tripped, thudded double for a moment, and weakened. That made his decision for him. Adrian took a long breath, looking up at the night sky.

“Forgive me,” he whispered.

He plunged his fangs into his own wrist and filled his mouth. Then, he bent over Trevors’s unconscious form and kissed him, letting the blood fall into his slack mouth and holding his head up so he wouldn’t choke. He felt Trevor swallow and then _tasted_ the breathy sigh that escaped his lips. Whiskey and pine underneath the metallic tang of his own blood.

Adrian drew back in alarm, suddenly not knowing how to feel. The man looked vulnerable, pained, and, well, like shit if he was being honest. But there was something about the way his lips parted ever so slightly and the blood that- no, Adrian couldn’t entertain such ideas. They had to get back to camp. He had to take care of his humans. _**The **humans_, he told himself sternly. Adrian wiped their mouths as best he could, then picked up Trevor to return to the crumbling building.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Adrian

Trevor’s form was surprisingly light in Adrian’s arms. His footfalls crunched the fallen leaves, each step breaking the silence of the night. Normally, he would prefer to be quieter, but the worry in his veins sent his thoughts scrambling and feet carelessly to the earth.

The truth was, he didn’t know for sure what his blood would do to Trevor. His parents had conducted plenty of tests in his youth, as his physiology _was_ something of an anomaly. Examining his senses, his body, his mind, how he might live and grow and interact with humans and vampires alike. His blood clearly had similar healing properties to full-blooded vampires, but they had never had the opportunity to test the theory on humans. He didn’t even know if he could turn a human. Regardless, he could still feel Trevor’s breath rattling weakly, so they were safe from that possibility. For now.

The old building was still warded, still looked unassuming and dark from the outside. But as Adrian stepped across the threshold, the familiar bedrolls and packs greeted him. He laid Trevor down carefully onto his own, after taking one look at the ratty, thin excuse for a roll that Belmont insisted was fine. He checked the man’s pulse and breathing again, found them satisfactory enough, then moved back to the door. There was more to be done.

First, he retrieved Sypha, feeling a sharp stab of guilt for leaving her unconscious and exposed among dead things for so long. But there was no one to tell her of his stupidity so he held solace in that. He returned her to her own bedroll, checked her head, then set about the work of expunging the dead.

He and Sypha had destroyed eight night creatures outside of the shack, their remains strewn around the clearing. Adrian sighed and began to gather and pile the pieces, careful not to allow whatever oozed out of them to touch his skin or clothing. Somehow one of them had ended up tangled around a tree. He knew it was his kill but still grumbled as he used his very expensive sword to cut it down. Once the immediate area was free enough of gore, he stepped into the woods to find whatever Trevor had been fighting.

He tracked the whip carefully, knowing the shaded woods could still hide enemies. It wasn't difficult, just following Trevors blood trail as he’d dragged himself through the woods the night before. Adrian felt an odd tightness in his chest at the thought of such desperation. The feeling caught him by surprise and he nearly stumbled, hand catching him on a nearby tree. He closed his eyes, breathed for a moment. _What was that?_ His hand came away sticky and red, smelling like grim determination, sinking fear, Trevor. _God. What if..._ Tears stung in his eyes and he shook his head, trying to rid his thoughts of the horrifying possibilities.

He’d grown up isolated, but he’d never been lonely. Sypha had spoken of missing her troupe, of the buzzing warmth that accompanied so many other people. His home was never cold with his mother around, but he had never had- or needed- anyone else. Sypha and Trevor had been the first outside his family to spend really any time at all with him. The thought of losing either of the humans struck him with an unfamiliar feeling deep in his gut, creeping up his spine, making his way to his throat. As the feeling weighed heavy on his tongue, Adrian was surprised to realize he didn’t want to live without them. He _couldn’t_ live without them. He savored the feeling for a moment, then pushed the revelation back down. He would deal with his feelings later. _Focus_. 

He found the whip near the carcass of a night creature, easily the largest of the group they had encountered. He felt a soft swell of pride that Trevor had managed to take it down on his own. The pride turned to a hot rage; this was the beast that had nearly taken the Hunter from him. Adrian allowed the red to bleed into his eyes and did not restrain his wrath as he ripped into the creature.

Dawn had broken gently over the nearby mountains by the time Adrian finished and returned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School has been a lot recently, but I have the next couple chapters planned so they will be coming soon! Sorry its all a bit short, I'm much more used to short-form writing and am using this as practice. Thanks for all the feedback it keeps me going! I might post the vampire rules Im loosely working with once we're over this narrative hump, but also it might just be more fun to figure it out was we go. If I continue past my current plans Ill do the latter, but lemme know what you think. Anyways, thanks a ton and glad yall like it!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sypha's Turn!

The battle was fast. Adrian shook Sypha awake then they were off, dodging and slicing and blasting through beasts. Sypha was angry, both at being found (she’d been so careful with her wards!) and from being woken up from an excellent dream. Of course, she couldn’t remember the dream now, having used that cognitive energy to power her magic. A night creature appeared before her and she used that anger, like searing and snapping dry leaves, to blast a hole through it. A few more fire bolts and she tasted live coals on her tongue, sending another wretched thing back to Hell. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Adrian slowly being surrounded. Mint and ice bloomed in her lungs and she breathed out frozen air in a puff of fog. An ice wall protected her friend’s back and froze an enemy in place. Suddenly the world went dark.

-

Consciousness came back slowly to Sypha, as it always had. When she was young, her grandfather said that she’d be halfway through breakfast before the mist cleared from her eyes. Unlike then, it did not come nicely, not to the warm glow of fire and familiar chatter. No, of course not, her current travelling companions were far too aloof and rude for all that. It was an absolute wonder how much she loved them both. Sypha blinked open her eyes, rolled over, stretched, yawned, and finally sat up. She gingerly touched the back of her head, hissing as it stung painfully.

“Oww,” she groaned. She grit her teeth and concentrated through the pain. The smell of sharp clear liquor and soft cloth bandages dulled her headache and began to shrink the massive lump. _Ok, time to get up_. It was still dark, but she could see the faint traces of dawn out the shack’s windows. A whiff of smoke and she held a small candle-flame in her hands. The small room bloomed with flickering golden light and her heart leapt to her throat.

Trevor was lying on his back, absolutely soaked in blood. While this wasn’t unusual given their, well, whole lives right now, but night creatures bled black, and what soaked the hunter’s tunic was a deep and unmistakable crimson.

“Trevor?” She knelt down, brightening the candle flame (an echo of sparks bursting from just-cracked log), and hastily looked for wounds, exposing his chest and stomach. There weren’t any. Nothing but tanned skin with old scars. Not even bruises. Sypha’s brow knit together in confusion. The man bruised like a ripe peach and always had some strange constellation of black and blue and green and yellow spattered across his body.

“Trevor,” Sypha said, the note of panic replaced with confusion. No response.

“C’mon Treffy, time to get up,” she shook him gently. He didn’t even move. Sypha began to be worried. A dire wound was one thing, but Trevor slept lightly and was paranoid enough to start every time anyone so much as bumped him. Adrian had nearly gotten staked the first couple of nights of changing watch. If Trevor was sleeping this deeply, something was wrong. Sypha could clearly see the rise and fall of his chest and his breaths seemed even enough. She pressed her ear to his chest- no wetness or rattle. She drew back, eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

“What the hell?” Sypha mumbled.

“He’s all right,” Adrian had appeared in the doorway, leaning too-casually against the doorframe.

“I mean, he’s clearly not,” Sypha said, gesturing to the blood which was beginning to grow tacky and brown. Adrian’s mouth twisted minutely. The man had a schooled poker face, but Sypha was excellent at reading people. “What happened, Adrian?”

The man pushed off the doorframe and took a step back, sweeping a hand out in invitation, “Can we speak outside?”

Sypha took a last glance at Trevor, who had a thin trail of drool trailing from the corner of his mouth, and followed.

The first weak traces of morning lit up the surrounding area. Adrian had already taken care of most of the carnage, piling the oily remains of the night creatures into a neat mound ready for burning. Dark stains still marked their passage, but a good storm would take care of that.

Adrian led the way to the pile. “Would you mind-” he asked, making another gesture.

Sypha rolled her eyes but nodded, and he took a few steps back. She took a deep breath, in through her nose, and closed her eyes. She tapped into the wrath and rage that bubbled deep. Today, it stemmed from concern and frustration and something else she couldn’t quite put a finger on. No matter. She opened her eyes and blew hard between her fingers (cracking crisping peeling flesh; bones popping, blackening; a kettle shrieking as it boiled over). A tiny pinprick of intense heat appeared, spinning and thrashing in her grip. She narrowed her eyes and allowed an escape. A cone of flame erupted from her, igniting the pyre instantly. In the corner of her eye, she saw Adrian jump slightly and if she weren’t concentrating so hard, she would make fun of him for it. As it was, controlling a huge jet of fire is no easy task, even if it is only for a few seconds. After a moment, the pile was entirely ablaze, inky smoke pouring out of it and forming a stinking pillar in the otherwise clear sky. Sypha released the rage and let the fire tend to itself.

“Now, what happened to Trevor?” She asked, turning to Adrian. They took a few more steps away from the now-burning pile of carnage, and the man sat down cross-legged on the grass, looking more tired than Sypha had ever seen him. He avoided her gaze.

“He died. Or, very very nearly did,” Adrian chewed on his lip, Sypha waited patiently. He took a breath. “He got drawn out, whatever he was fighting was smarter than the others. And him apparently-” Sypha smacked him gently on the knee, “I didn’t notice, because we had our own to worry about, and then you-” the lump on her head throbbed in reminder as she nodded, “- and when I had finished with ours, I realized he wasn’t here and went looking for him and-” Adrian scrubbed his face with his hands, “God, Sypha, he was going to die. And you were out. And I didn’t know what to do.”

Suddenly Sypha’s blood went cold, “You, you didn’t-” Adrian looked up sharply.

“No! No- I mean- I don’t think so.” Fear was clear in his eyes.

“What does _that_ mean, Adrian?”

“I, fuck, this is horrible, I gave him some of my blood,” Adrian’s strange golden eyes were flickering anywhere but her own, “I don’t even know if I can change people. I, I just thought, well, my blood clearly had healing properties, so if it works for me there’s a chance that it could work for him and I couldn’t just let him die...” Finally he trailed off, mouth eventually snapping shut.

Sypha was conflicted. On one hand, she could tease Adrian about actually liking them. On the other, this was an incredibly dangerous thing to do, and Trevor would have never wanted it. On a final, third hand, all of them were still alive and that was the most important.

“Oh, I see you’re finally admitting to loving us, wait ‘til I tell Treffy,” Naturally, she chose the foremost topic. This paid off, earning her a small smile and Adrian’s eyes meeting her own. He would have already beaten himself up enough and didn’t need her piling on at the moment. There was nothing to be done until Trevor woke up and they could examine him further.

“Can we have breakfast?” Sypha asked. This earned a full chuckle from the dhampir.

“Of course.” And so they did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to add that my interpretation of Sypha's magic is very sensory/feelings based so thats what those lil bits in there are if anybodys confused. As always, thanks so much for the support! Now that were social distancing with nothing better to do, hopefully the chapters will come faster. Next chapter is Trevor's POV and its mostly written so get pumped. See ya soon!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trevor wakes up

“Guh,” said Trevor.  _ Stupid sun,  _ he thought, rubbing his sensitive eyes. He had the worst hangover. Which was weird because he didn’t remember drinking at all last night. He just remembered being on watch, then the ambush, and getting drawn too far out and— “Oh fuck,” hands flying to his stomach. Fingers prodded torn cotton but he felt no pain, only the faint ticklish pressure on his abdomen. He sat up— too quickly apparently because black points pulsed in his eyes and his head felt like there were nails being pounded into it. 

Once the pain subsided, Trevor took his shirt off and inspected himself closer. His stomach was, well, not perfectly smooth, the old scars still remained, but definitely not the gaping hole that it had been last night. He prodded at it in disbelief, thinking it might be some kind of illusion, but no, he was completely healed. 

“Playing with yourself again, Belmont?” Alucard’s deep voice sounded from the doorway.

Trevor pretended he hadn’t just nearly jumped out of his skin and pulled the edge of his mouth up in a smirk, “Why, you wanna join, Alucard?”

The blonde man raised one eyebrow in disdain, but there was no venom in his eyes. Instead, something Trevor hadn’t seen in them before: worry.

“But, really, what—“ Trevor gestured at his unmarred stomach, “what happened?”

Alucard suddenly looked very uncomfortable, not meeting his eyes. “Ah,” he said, shuffling his feet.

That worried Trevor more than just about anything else. He started to push himself up, then winced at his incredibly achy muscles. “Ow.” He hissed, lip curling up in annoyance. He felt a cool hand on his shoulder, Alucard appearing in front of him. 

“Just, stay down will you?” Alucard’s brows were knotted together on his usually stony face, “please, Trevor?”

Trevor briefly lost his train of thought as he stared into those piercing— and suddenly very close— golden eyes. _ Stop that _ , he told himself, _ answers now, oogling later _ . “Fine,” he mumbled, then resettled himself on his bedroll. Scratch that, not his bedroll, he noticed. It was plusher and had much fewer patches. Adrian’s bedroll, then.  _ Huh _ .

“Alright I’m sitting,” Trevor said, “now what the fuck?”

Adrian averted his gaze, stalled by getting comfortably cross-legged in front of him. When he finally stopped moving, he looked up cautiously, “what do you remember about last night?”

Trevor huffed impatiently, “there was an ambush, that was definitely not my fault—“ an elegant eyebrow arched, “—and I went after a big one and I got it, but uh, it got me too, and I was trying to come back but it uh, it wasn’t going so well and then...“ Trevor trailed off, the severity of his experience sinking in. Adrian waited patiently. Trevor expertly avoided his gaze.

“I— I got cold, couldn't move,” he bit his lip, his eyes were starting to burn, “I, ha, I guess I wanted to see the stars. If I couldn’t get any further, I could at least do that. And then, it was like the moon was coming down and there was — oh. That was you, wasn't it?” Trevor finally looked up, meeting Adrian’s gaze. The man blinked, nodded minutely. Trevor put a hand out, touching his knee lightly.

“I guess you saved me, huh? Thank you, Adrian,” Trevor’s eyes slid away, prickling, “I- I thought I was gonna die, and I realized I didn’t want to. So. Thank you. Really.” He snapped his gaze back to Adrian’s, took his hand back and placed it on his bare stomach. “But  _ how _ am I healed like this? I know Sypha’s magic has limits and this is beyond them.”

Now it was Adrian’s turn to look at anything else in the room. “I, um—“ he stopped, rubbed the bridge of his nose. He sighed deeply. “Sypha was rendered unconscious by a night creature and you had very little blood and like you said her magic has limits so I—“ he paused, looking nervous. Trevor gestured impatiently.

“I thought you were going to die,” he said quietly, looking at his hands in his lap. There was an unfamiliar note in his voice.

“Jesus Christ, man, out with it!” Adrian looked up sharply at Trevor’s outburst.

“I fed you my blood, Trevor,” He snapped. “I did so to save your life and you might hate me for it but it was the only option we had .”

They both froze. Trevor stared, mouth open slightly. Adrian had terror in his eyes. They sat unmoving for a long moment.

“You could have let me die,” Trevor finally whispered.

Adrian looked downright murderous. “I could not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is folks, the moment you've all been waiting for. One more cliffhanger then I promise we will figure things out. See ya soon!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trevor has a panic attack, gets a hug   
tw for self harm (scratching)

Trevor stared. Adrian stared back, those unnerving golden eyes filled with pain. Neither of them breathed. The world stood still, silent. Shock dulled everything around them. Then Trevor felt it, deep in his chest. He was going to cry. Trevor did not want to cry. Not here, not now, not in front of the half-vampire he had grown so attached to in the past few months. He swallowed hard against the growing lump in his throat and Adrian’s eyes flicked downward for a fraction of a moment, breaking their spell. Tears pushed threateningly behind his eyes and suddenly there wasn’t enough air in the room. Trevor shattered the stillness haphazardly, pushing himself upwards. He just had to get out. Had to move and get away from Adrian before-

“What are you-” Adrian reached out to steady him but Trevor flailed, eyes wild.

“I have-” he gasped, “I have to-,” Fuck, he couldn’t breathe.

Adrian caught a wrist and Trevor ripped it away, lost his balance, and fell backwards. He landed hard on his ass and that was the last straw. A huge sob wracked his frame and tears blurred his vision, ran down his cheeks. Trevor Belmont, Last of the Fucking Belmonts, was weeping like a child in front of the son of Dracula. To be fair, Trevor Belmont, Last of the Fucking Belmonts, had drank the fucking  _ blood _ of the son of Dracula. And it was in him. Right now. The thought sent a fresh wave of panic through him. He could practically feel it in his veins. He couldn’t breathe. What would happen? Was he going to turn? Horror curdled in his stomach. He couldn’t breathe. This was his worst nightmare, drilled into him since birth. He could  _ fucking _ feel it-

Cold hands clamped down on his own and he gasped, then choked, then coughed hard. Finally, he lifted his head from between his raised knees and found Adrian kneeling in front of him, a wrist in each hand. Trevor’s tanned arms had red lines scored into them, skin just on the edge of splitting. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling fat tears roll down his damp cheeks. He opened them again and the lines were already fading. A horrible little noise caught and cracked and ached in his throat. His eyes blurred again without warning but at least he couldn’t see. 

The world tipped and his face was in a warm, soft chest. It rumbled as its owner said something softly. Trevor had not been held like this since his mother died. He cried harder, heaving massive, broken sobs, generally making a mess of Adrian’s silky shirt. 

Eventually, Trevor stopped shaking and breathing came easier again. He realized Adrian had been rubbing slow circles into his back with one hand and holding both of his own in the other. It felt… nice. Trevor took a hand back, wiped his face. He didn’t move away.

“Adrian?” His voice was rough, though still smaller than it had been in a long time.

“Yes?” The voice rumbled next to his ear and Trevor suppressed a shiver.

“Am I going to change?” The hand on his back stilled.

“... I don’t know,” Adrian murmured into his hair, “I don’t think so.”

Trevor blinked.

“Okay,” he said. After a moment, “Why not?”

The chest against his cheek pressed up, then let out shakily.

“Because you have to die,” he sounded tired, “I don’t think you died.”

“But you don’t know.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Shit.”

“...Yes.”

It was quiet for a long moment. Finally a hand squeezed his own and Trevor realized he had nearly nodded off.

“How do you feel?”

Trevor let out a quiet bark of a laugh, “Like shit.” He could almost feel the raised eyebrow prompting him to continue. “Alright, alright, lets see, splitting headache, sore as hell, like I did about a thousand crunches. It’s really fuckin’ bright too, what time is it?”

Adrian tensed below him, “...the sun was beginning to set when I came in here.”

“What.” Trevor was suddenly Very awake. He pushed away from Adrian, sitting up on his own. He noticed that he had practically been sitting in the man’s lap, Adrian’s long legs framed either side of him. Trevor pushed whatever feelings he had about  _ that _ down violently, instead choosing to focus on not panicking again. Apparently it was dusk but the room looked like it was noon.

“Fuck,” breathing was becoming hard again. “Oh Fuck. What the  _ fuck _ does that mean? Adrian I can’t- Shit. I can’t be a fucking-”

“Stop.” Those cold hands grabbed the sides of his face and he was struck by the molten gold of the dhampir’s eyes. “Trevor, stop. You are not going to change. You are not going to become a vampire. Your heart did not stop. Breathe.” He sucked in a long breath, then let it out raggedly. Adrian swiped a thumb across his cheek and Trevor realized his face was wet again. “That’s good. You are going to be alright. We will figure out what is happening. You just need to keep breathing and not panic. Alright?” Trevor blinked, then nodded minutely. “Good. Now, I’m going to find Sypha and she is going to look you over.” Trevor nodded again. Adrian pressed a quick kiss to his forehead, then stood up and left the shack. 

Trevor blinked.

Took a deep breath.

Let it out slowly.

The small dot of cold on his forehead faded.

In through the nose.

Out through the mouth.

Again, less shaky this time. God, he was tired. 

Slowly, as though not wanting to hurt him further, a memory emerged. One of his brothers had given him a bad scare, something with a snake, and his mother had found him in some corner in the manner. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. She had held him, showed him how to take calming breaths. He could almost smell her perfume, feel her strong arms wrapped around him, hear her soothing voice. How could he have forgotten?

He breathed in deep and smelled flowers and charcoal on the air. Sypha opened the door to the shack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should've probably just combined this and the last one but I didn't know it would come so fast. Oh well! Anyway, Trevor has gotta be touch starved and hiding panic behind all that bravado. Let Him Cry!   
Hope yall enjoy. Thanks for the support and love. Take care of yourselves in these trying times!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trevor is ticklish and Vampires can smell magic I guess? I don't know what I'm doing

Sypha poked and prodded at him for a while, fingers glowing softly where they touched him. It felt... odd, mostly. Just on the safe side of too-hot and tingling numb afterwards. Trevor fought to keep from twitching as she touched his shoulders and neck. They still felt raw, despite the lack of physical evidence. The ache of it faded and he could concentrate on ignoring the strangeness of those small hands touching him. Nobody had touched him without pain in so long and it felt, well, nice. He tried not to think about it. Adrian was sitting nearby, trying not to look concerned. It wasn’t working. 

She moved on to his face, turning it this way and that as she looked for signs of injury. “Open your mouth,” she muttered, pulling gently on his chin. He complied, trying hard to ignore the soft thumb that pressed against his lower lip. She prodded his teeth and then he realized why. Apparently, they were still normal teeth, because Sypha nodded slightly and let him close his mouth, absently patting his cheek. She moved on, pressing two fingers and a thumb into his chest above his heart. They glowed brighter for a moment and Trevor thought they might be hurting, but he couldn’t quite decide. Eventually, the glowing lessened and she continued her evaluation.

The little fingers brushed along his ribs and he jumped and gasped suddenly, breaking the silence and wriggling away, “Sypha!”

She looked at him with alarm, “Did that hurt?”

His face began to warm up, “No! I-it just tickled!” The tension in the room popped like a balloon. Adrian disguised a snicker poorly and Sypha tried to look stern around a grin.

“You idiot,” she said, swatting at his leg, “you nearly gave me a heart attack! Just sit still, Jesus.”

Trevor did his best, he really did. But when her hands returned to his sides, they were feather light and gentle and it just felt so  _ weird _ . He could feel his skin and his muscles twitching away from her fingers and he just couldn’t keep from squirming, mouth twisting as he tried desperately not to laugh. 

“Oh my God, Trevor,” Sypha laughed, done pretending to be annoyed.

“Would you like me to restrain him?” Adrian asked, lips twitching upwards. Trevor’s stomach did some kind of acrobatic maneuver and he nearly choked. Nope, definitely not thinking about  _ that _ . Instead, he made a noise that was absolutely not a squeak and opened his mouth to protest.

Sypha laughed more, like pealing bells in his ears, “Haha no, Adrian, thank you. I’ll just note that for later and move on.” Her voice was full of innocence and Trevor did not trust her for a moment.

Trevor tensed as she drew near him again, smelling the wildflowers and simmering coals but now something sharp and searing cold... vodka? It was weird, he’d never smelled that on her before. 

He let out a huff of air as she pressed her burning fingers into his stomach. The harder touch didn’t quite tickle like the lighter ones, but it was still something that made him want to wiggle away. The muscles were still sore and sensitive, the heat was just on the edge of pain. Soon, it eased, and he began to relax, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. He really was tired. He wondered vaguely if Adrian felt this tired from healing so quickly. 

“Do you want to lay down?” Sypha asked quietly. Trevor opened his eyes, blinking as he realized both of them were just staring at him, Sypha’s hands now folded in her lap. He also remembered he was shirtless and began to feel self-conscious. He cleared his throat and sat up more.

“Uh, no. No, I want to figure this out,” He was exhausted, sure, but he didn’t know if he could sleep at this point. Not to mention if he tried, they would probably leave him alone and that was something he really did not want to be right now.  _ You could ask them _ , a tiny voice whispered in the back of his head,  _ they would stay for you, you know _ .  _ Shut up _ , he told it, pushing those feelings down. He’d already been vulnerable enough for one day.

“If you’re sure,” Sypha said. He nodded. “Your turn then, I’ve done all I can do,” she scooted over to make room for Adrian. Trevor didn’t miss the warmth of her fingers on him, and didn’t notice and appreciate the way she stayed within touching distance. The half-vampire settled before him and let out a long sigh. 

“Alright,” he drew a hand over a tired face, “Alright, what do you feel?”

Trevor felt his brow furrow in confusion, “You already asked me that. I feel tired, and achy, and-”

Adrian cut him off with a hand-wave. “No, not how,  _ what _ .” Trevor saw Sypha tip her head minutely in the corner of his eye. Adrian made a frustrated noise, “Earlier, you said it was too bright, even though the sun was nearly set. I want to know if any of your other senses are heightened.”

“Oh,” Trevor said dumbly, ”Huh.” That would explain some things. “Um, yeah that seems to be the case. I, uh, Sypha smells pretty different.” He made a small gesture toward her.

“Oh? And what do I normally smell like?” Sypha asked teasingly, her eyes lit with humor. 

“Ugh, fuck, I don’t know!” Trevor groaned, trying desperately to ignore his face heating up. He let the words spill out of his mouth as fast as possible, looking up at the ceiling of the crumbling structure. “You still smell like  _ you _ , yknow, but now it’s like, flowers or fire or something and a minute ago you smelled like vodka? But I know we don’t have any because I- but anyway that’s gone now but I didn’t really  _ think _ about how people smelled before so I don’t really know...” He eventually trailed off weakly, looking back to his friends.

Adrian cocked his head to the side, a strange expression on his face. “What do I smell like?”

“Uh,” Trevor said eloquently.

“I’m curious, humor me,” Adrian said, and suddenly leaned forward and brushed his hair back from his neck and Trevor froze. 

“Go on,” his voice rumbled in Trevor’s ear and he could feel goosebumps rise on his neck. Trevor closed his eyes, trying to concentrate. He breathed in deep, letting the scents wash over him. Roses, wild and thorny and sweet. Old and weathered stone. Something metallic. He could still smell Sypha, somewhere in the background, but now that he was focusing, it was almost too overwhelming, being this close to Adrian. He breathed in again, mouth open and he could  _ taste _ the air. He could  _ taste _ Adrian. It was like he’d shoved rose petals in his mouth and bit down and it tasted like iron, like blood. Trevor was struck suddenly with a memory. He was young, playing in the garden behind the manor. It was bordered to the back by a low stone wall. He didn’t know at the time, but it had been there longer than the house itself, the last remnants of some shepherds that had walked the land before. The stone wall was covered in fat white flowers, vines snaking up and around it. He was hopping from one bare patch to another when he stepped just too close to the outer edge. The stone crumbled beneath his foot and he slipped, flailed, and fell. The impact wasn’t bad, but he must have bit his tongue because his mouth was full of blood. He laid there, among the heady perfume of crushed roses, mouth full of iron, stunned. It was the first time he had tasted blood. His sister cried out to him and the shock of her voice wrenched him from the memory.

He jerked away, heart beating too fast. Adrian was motionless in front of him, wide golden eyes meeting his own. 

“Trevor?” Sypha put a hand on his arm and it almost burned.

“Roses and stone,” he said quickly, not breaking eye contact, “you smell like roses and old stone.”

“Oh,” Adrian said, finally blinking and leaning back. Trevor could swear there was a light dusting of pink on his high cheekbones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole fic was supposed to be so I could get to one scene but I think I've slipped past that one and am now just careening Somewhere. Hopefully that somewhere will be entertaining for all of us. As always, thanks for the love and stay safe!

**Author's Note:**

> Minimal edits, sorry if its sloppy. I just love these characters and writing painful action sequences


End file.
